Who Will Control the Syrian Rebels’ Guns?

The Syrian opposition—in all its varied forms—has long asked that Barack Obama contribute more to its fight against President Bashar al-Assad than reprimands and non-lethal aid. (That category has included ready-to-eat meals of Western but not Syrian favorites like tortellini with cream sauce.) The rebels got some of what they wanted Thursday, when the White House let it be known that it is now considering sending them small arms. The change in policy was prompted by intelligence reports claiming that Assad had used small quantities of sarin gas on several occasions, killing between a hundred and a hundred and fifty people, and occurred on the same day that the United Nations announced that at least ninety-three thousand people have died in the war. The former, though, were the decisive hundred.

But what will American guns mean on the ground? What kinds of weapons will the United States provide, how many, and to whom?

Rebel commanders I’ve talked to inside Syria over the past two years say they can always use more Kalashnikovs and other light weapons. What they really want, though, are anti-tank missiles and anti-aircraft systems, the kinds of sophisticated armaments that the West worries might end up in the hands of Islamic extremists, either inside Syria or elsewhere.

But guns serve two purposes: they function not only as weapons against the enemy but also as a potential means of helping rebels the United States favors enforce command and control within their ranks. The rebels, so far, have been unable to form a chain of command that is respected on the ground, has real authority, and can enforce direction. The United States will likely seek to funnel supplies to so-called moderate rebels under General Salim Idris, the head of the Free Syrian Army’s military command, to make him a more attractive alternative to more extreme elements. This will be very difficult, for a number of reasons.

For starters, the rebels already have several sources of weapons, having become proficient at scrounging for supplies, and many have long balked at the idea of selling their fealty and loyalty for weapons. Much of their stocks are captured by overrunning government checkpoints and bases. Some weapons are purchased on the black market, both inside Syria (mainly from corrupt members of the Assad regime) and in neighboring countries, including Iraq and Lebanon, from which they are smuggled across the border. Certain rebel groups have also become adept at making their own armaments, including improvised explosive devices (often with assistance from Syrian and foreign veterans of the fight in Iraq), mortars, hand grenades, and even rockets.

I visited one factory in Syria’s northern Idlib province that based its rockets on Hamas’s Qassam model; they got technical help from members of Hamas. The Qassam isn’t exactly known for its efficacy, but the fact that Syrians were receiving Palestinian help indicates their wiliness, and their desperation to secure the means to fight back against the Syrian state’s formidable Army and Air Force.

For the past year or so, Saudi Arabia and Qatar have sponsored a structured effort, with U.S. and Turkish backing, to funnel weapons—mainly light armaments like rifles, rocket-propelled grenades, and ammunition—to select rebel groups. The conduits have been the rebel F.S.A.’s various hierarchical structures, including military councils in each of Syria’s fourteen provinces. These were supposed to be the main tap for weapons, and an instrument of control over the men on the ground; they never were. The Saudis and the Qataris had conflicting ideas about which groups should be armed, and sent weapons in different directions. The operation was plagued, too, by claims of favoritism in the distribution process. Instead of being a model, the experience may provide a cautionary tale of what might go wrong with a U.S. effort to arm the rebels.

A particular F.S.A. battalion, for example, might be part of a military council and receive a smattering of supplies from it, while also having a private donor or donors—often wealthy businessmen or clerics from the Syrian diaspora or the Gulf. The battalion might augment this with war booty, and might fight alongside the very groups the United States and the rest of the West fear the most: the Islamic conservatives and extremists, like Jabhat al-Nusra and the Salafi Ahrar al-Sham brigades. (The F.S.A. also includes Islamist groups, and in Cairo on Thursday, several Sunni clerics with regional influence called for jihad to support the rebels; Hezbollah’s Shiite fighters are already on the government’s side.)

Jabhat al-Nusra has deep pockets (thanks in part to its affiliation with Al Qaeda in Iraq), a steady source of weapons and ammunition, and a regimental, disciplined approach to the fight that has made it among the most proficient anti-Assad groups. The essential problem is that the F.S.A. doesn’t have the same discipline. It has never been an organized force with any top-down command and control—it’s just a loose franchise outfit, little more than a term to sanitize the reality that most of the groups on the ground are independent militias that rarely take orders from the senior defectors and prominent armed civilians leading the F.S.A. In fact, many fighters despise the so-called leaders-in-exile who claim to speak on their behalf. Any organized relations among the armed groups are very local or ad hoc. There is often coordination in a particular town or for a certain battle, between groups that are part of the F.S.A. as well as those outside it, but that’s about it.

In late February, I asked General Idris why and how he thought he was going to be able to control the myriad groups when his predecessors could not. He didn’t offer a persuasive answer, beyond that he had set up local operations rooms at various fronts to monitor the fights and to see who was working—and hence worthy of being supported—and who was not.

If anything, having more guns to dole out in this manner may just increase the already intense competition between various battalions for a patron’s money or supplies. There are fierce rivalries within rebel ranks—for ideological, territorial, and other reasons—some of which have already devolved into gun battles. Warlords have emerged. Criminal elements have taken root, exploiting the disorder. Human-rights groups have noted abuses by both sides.

Idris acknowledged that such competition was fracturing the military opposition but said the main reason was the lack of adequate supplies. If he is to control the men on the ground he claims are under his command, he will need leverage. American guns might help him acquire it, if they are provided in a consistent manner and are of the sort that might make a difference on the battlefield—by helping neutralize the threat of Assad’s aircraft, for example. But many questions about the rebels need to be answered first. And there are larger ones for the international community. Will pouring more guns into this fight result in more deaths? Or will it level the killing field and bring down the regime sooner? Even if it does, the end of the regime is unlikely to be the end of the fight, unless the deepening rebel rivalries can somehow be resolved.